


The Doom

by Saniika



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hanahaki AU, Live and Love Yuri!!! On Ice Big Bang, M/M, bing#2, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14246796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/pseuds/Saniika
Summary: A scent accompanies Yuuri through out his life and at a certain point he knows the end is near.





	The Doom

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings this time.
> 
> Bing submission. Words: Fumes / Genre: magical realism  
> [LethanWolf](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/LethanWolf) suggested [Arebell](https://www.instagram.com/dumb.ways.to.live/) makes illustration and we both write for it our own part.   
> Lethan's is [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256138)
> 
> Beta-ed by [Icanseeclearlynow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICanSeeClearlyNow/pseuds/ICanSeeClearlyNow) and [Shadhahvar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/).
> 
> Please check out their work. Showering them with love is healthy!

Yuuri did always smell the sweet fragrance around himself. It was different than his mother’s baked goods from the onsen’s kitchen, different than any flowers in their garden. The scent was just there one day, came off the crisp shaved ice from under his skates. It tasted salty on his tongue after ballet lessons. It changed the intensity during his competitions. He didn’t try to identify the source.

He choked out the forget-me-nots.

Good things were happening in his life, rewards in form of medals, his family’s support. Growing pile of memorabilia - his room turning into a Victor Nikiforov shrine. The stronger the scent grew the more his chest swelled. His hands shook, sometimes his knees gave up. The scent was ever present; it entered his dreams, making him think of sunflowers and heavy ripe grapes. 

He choked out the daffodils. 

Yet Yuuri never got his fill, woke up thirsty with parched throat. Nothing helped, no tea prepared by his sister, no juice from the fridge - even if it was the better kind that Phichit got them on special occasions. It left Yuuri hungry and almost delirious, so desperate he binged on vending machine candy with peanut filling.

He choked out the rowan berries.

Yuuri didn’t like to dream, so he started to avoid sleeping, playing games on his phones and digging into the bottom of internet. Sometimes the exhaustion still wasn’t enough and he danced with young Victor at a ball. Yuuri admired him from behind the croquembouche, barely able to peer over it. Other times he felt the soft linen shirt under his fingers and the delicate embroidery of Victor’s collar tickled his own neck as they turned in a passionate tango. 

That’s when the scent was the strongest. The wafting fumes of something so delightful, Yuuri’s eyes filled with joyful tears as he watched Victor’s bewildered expression. It pierced his heart on the other hand; he still felt the ache as he stepped on the unforgiving ice to perform his free skate.

He choked out the cypress.

Even Vicchan’s death didn’t come as a surprise. He felt it, deep inside, the impeding and looming danger. The call of the scent whispering to his ears that there would be a price for the pleasure. Yuuri’s body weighed down heavy as lead even though he felt like a tin soldier. He often checked if his leg was missing, thinking that somehow his limbs were crumbling.

Yuuri was full of expectancy and he hated it, he was afraid of it as well, yet unable to let go.

Celestino’s direct advice to enjoy himself came as a signal, a prophecy read aloud in his mind. It said something like this: “This is it, it happens now. It all ends this evening.”

So Yuuri chased the unquenchable thirst once more with the champagne, once more tasting grapes on his tongue and it was fine. It was actually very fine. Yuuri, knowing the end was near, finally let go and welcomed the scent with open arms, without any reservations. It made sense that he would dance, take clothes off to dance even more. His muscles strained; perhaps Yuuri even tore them in his zeal. But it was worth it, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Victor was in his arms, shorter hair and fine suit fabric in place of the laced shirt. Yuuri missed the tickle of Victor’s hair on his arm and that’s why he sunk his fingers without hesitation into the trimmed hair on Victor’s nape. Yuuri thought it was actually splendid.

“Be my coach, Victor!” He shouted with all of his might, yet it came out all garbled. What worry would he have? The scent said it would end, so there were no consequences for Yuuri to face for his actions, no matter how audacious they were that evening. That night was Yuuri’s night, his ball and celebration.

“The success is a public celebration. The failure is a private funeral.”

Whoever said it was a liar! Yuuri would shoot off with salves and canons, his ride through the dance floor with Victor in his embrace would put Ravel’s Bolero to shame. The salt and champagne dried on his skin, it burst in his mouth. Only when he wondered why he tasted red wine instead of champagne did Yuuri chuckle and realize he was kissing Victor. And Victor didn’t look shocked or repulsed, quite the contrary, and so it was ok.

Doom was near. It would end.

Yet, it didn’t. And it did.

Yuuri woke up the next day feeling like he was dying, but didn’t die, much to his disappointment. He didn’t know anything anymore. The scent was gone, he didn’t choke, he didn’t feel weak or sickly anymore. And somehow it made everything worse, sent it to the ground all plummeting into a maelstrom of depression.

It didn’t end. Yuuri didn’t end.

Even when Victor appeared on his doorstep in Hasetsu. Even when he clutched his silver medal at the end of the ceremony. And even ten years after when Yuuri found himself on their sofa, in their apartment and dogs licking his palms and Victor kissing his nape, it still didn’t end.

It was a catastrophe. The love and life he shared with Victor threatened to burst out of his chest everyday.

**Author's Note:**

> The meaning of Yuuri's hanahaki manifestation:  
> Forget-me-nots: A connection that lasts through time  
> Daffodil: Uncertainty  
> Rowan (berries): Transformation  
> Cypress: Death, Mourning, Despair (foreshadowing of Vicchan's death)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Did you like the work? Please let me know and share it :)  
> I appreciate the motivation! Please make sure to let the artist know if you liked their pictures!


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